[Our aim: world domination
|
|
No fear, hands in-a di air
|
Bust your gunfinga, wave it like ya don't care
|
Bust hot lickshots in-a di atmosphere
|
There's a party to rock, that's why the Rascalz are here [x2]
|
|
Lick shots and bust yo caps
|
Put it up, where your gunfinga's at? [x2]
|
|
[VERSE 1: Red 1]
|
Aiyo, gunfinga the tool, against the great, no rule
|
Plow! Shots are bust and we notorious
|
Thus thrust, Red'll defend the rugged and raw
|
(Cause we-a rudeboy) So hit em with the hardcore stuff
|
Cause my glock's not enough, sometimes a man fi get cuffed
|
Handled ruff, we're minded too dangerous
|
Ain't no messin with nobody less they puff with us
|
Cause we keep to ourselves and the pounds we puff
|
So let it burn, rockin the chalice, take turns
|
Red 1 not concerned, I got em a-fi learn
|
Bout respect due, yo respect a-fi earn
|
Big up to Rascal Crew, foundation stands firm
|
Fear none, think that we done, we just-a come
|
Gunfinga cocked in-a di air, make it bum
|
Bo! That's for my ghetto people
|
Cause the world's unfair, never was equal
|
Lick a bo! That's for Babylon pon patrol
|
Cause Van City cats got tons of hydro
|
And there's one more that we gotta let go
|
And that's the one that we lick off in-a di po-po
|
I test the empire, then we royal gumbo
|
Many guns for hire when your regime crumble
|
Then raise my gunfinga in the air, born again
|
Wave it like a flag, world domination pon dem
|
|
No fear, hands in-a di air
|
Bust your gunfinga, wave it like ya don't care
|
Bust hot lickshots in-a di atmosphere
|
There's a party to rock, that's why the Rascalz are here [x2]
|
|
[VERSE 2: Kardinal Offishall]
|
Let me see your gunfinga, but hold your gun down, please
|
Yo, don't bust no shots, so me and my niggas could rock
|
Dem call me Mr. Kardinal (Dem call me Mr. Red 1)
|
Come follow me, holler me out if you know what I'm talkin about
|
My niggas walkin about, big up the ghetto gutter guns
|
Street presidents, slum residents
|
And all my niggas on they two feet with street sense
|
And more than two cents in-a dem pocket
|
I rock a verse for keeps, run my lyrics in-a di mix
|
I bet he love it, respect, big up your chest
|
Kardinal and Rascalz gwan make you feel hi-i-igh
|
Killin you softly with no lye
|
While your toe taps I'm breakin your back over my hi-hat
|
Kick drum is makin you numb, snare snap is strapped
|
To bust back for every red-eyed nigga on the attack
|
So when I'm comin through, you cannot stop me on the go
|
For every nigga that clack-clacks, the Figure IV gotta be gold
|
Like that
|
|
Lick shots, bust yo caps
|
Put it up, where your gunfinga's at? [x2]
|
|
[VERSE 3: Red One]
|
Aiyo, the big gun spark, light up the dark (Yes, mire)
|
360 degrees, the place on fire
|
Feel the heat, yo, either surrender or retreat
|
Cause Kemo don't give a fuck, he put some fire in the beat
|
Gave me the trigger to watch me blow them off they feet
|
(Plow! Bust your gunfinga, cause respect compete)
|
The all Massive Van Crew, soldier men, too
|
You rudeboys in-a di dance, dedicated to you
|
And all the young guns up, they past they curfew
|
(Big up di sexy gal crew, cause dem bust shots too)
|
Sketels and workings just to make a debut
|
Keep di clip in-a di g-string, ready to move
|
So what you do is put your hand in-a di air
|
And you bust your gunfinga, wave it like ya don't care
|
I swear, one love to my people out there
|
You we salute, lickin off shots in the air
|
|
-----------------
|
Gunnfinga
|
Rascalz |